


A Matter of Lineage

by Makalaure



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, General, Humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 15:30:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4630491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makalaure/pseuds/Makalaure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Elrond, history tends to repeat itself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Matter of Lineage

Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien's works.

A Matter of Lineage

Elrond had spent the afternoon feeling sorry for himself, and was trying to make up for it by being "difficult", as his mother would say. He methodically picked apart the steaming cod on his plate with his fork till it began to look like something you scraped off the underside of a shoe. 

When Maglor gave him a wooden flute in the morning, Elrond had said 'thank you', and the next moment was horrified because 'thank you' was not something to say to a kinslayer.

"I am a disappointment to my family," he thought sullenly, pushing the demolished cod to the edges of his plate. He felt bad for not having an appetite, because now he couldn't punish himself by feeling hungry. He put down his fork and stared at the fire swaying in the hearth till his eyes watered. The great hall was almost empty, and he could hear every snap and crackle of the flames.

"Elrond," said Maglor from the other side of the trestle able, "finish your food or I will make you scrub the floor of your chamber." He must have been quite concerned to whip out that stern tone, but Elrond had learned early to not take Maglor's threats seriously. The most Maglor ever did was stand stiff as a pole and turn an intriguing shade of scarlet.

"I don't see a point in eating when I'm not hungry," said Elrond, putting his chin in his hand.

Maglor leaned back in his seat. He looked like he was in the throes of creating a rather strict remark, but then shrugged and said, "Well, fish is good for the brain, and goodness knows you need it."

"That's probably why you eat it so much," said Elrond, without batting an eyelid. 

Maglor choked on the peas he had spooned in his mouth a moment before, and thumped his chest a few times. At that moment Maedhros chose to saunter into the hall. He came over to the table and regarded the scene with vague curiosity, and didn't say anything to Maglor, who was still choking. Elrond crossed his arms over his chest and stiffened, unsure if Maedhros was in a bad mood. You could never tell with Maedhros; he maintained a poker face at all times, in all circumstances. Briefly, Elrond wondered if he'd ever used a different expression.

In a moment Maglor swallowed and blinked away the tears in his eyes. He sprung up from the table, his chair squawking with a rude noise over the slate floor. "I can't deal with him!" he said to Maedhros, gesturing at Elrond. "I can't, and I hate you!"

"Heavens," said Maedhros, cleaning some dirt from his nails and adjusting his collar, "what did I do?"

"You?" Maglor pointed a long finger at him. "You did nothing. You stayed in your room undertaking goodness-knows-what while I sat here in this freezing hall and tried to get him to eat."

"No one asked you to do that, you over-sensitive dunderhead."

"Whose side are you on?"

"Does this child possess more wit than you?"

Elrond began to draw a beech-leaf pattern on his mashed cod with a knife. If anything, he was starting to find life here amusing. The people had about as much sense as did a strip of wood.

* * *

It could have been a perfect evening. The stars were winking in the sky, stained with pink and purple, and there was a cool breeze. They could have been sitting by one of the babbling streams and watching the sunset.

Elrond suppressed a sigh and tapped his fingers on the table. "Just one bite," he said wearily. "So I know you love me." _So Celebrían won't disembowel me._

Arwen pouted at the salmon on the willow-pattern plate.

"Come on," said Elrond, sinking in his seat. "Fish is good for the brain."

"That explains why you eat so much of it," Arwen said. She looked utterly bored when he jumped up and began to pace up and down, swearing in Khuzdûl so she wouldn't understand him.


End file.
